by Brindi Quinn
“Open your eyes, my cherry pit. It’s the Waterfall of Sorrow.”
“A waterfall?” I’d only heard tales of the phenomenon. I opened my eyes.
“Lovely?” asked Ardette, his mouth still too close to my ear.
“It’s . . . beautiful.” I stared, dazzled by the shining water that fell over the rocky edge and into the lapis lazuli pool. Bubbling, it crashed into the rocks below, spraying a fine mist around the area.
I closed my eyes again and listened. The sound of the waterfall was overpowering, but at the same time lulling. Fearsome, but at the same time soothing. Raging, but at the same time surrendering.
I guess that sort of thing can only be described as lovely.
“Oooh!” Kantú ran forward and stuck a toe into the water.
“Ya comin’ in?” called Grotts.
I searched the far edge of the small pool. The rest of the group had beaten us there, and they were now wading around in the shallowest part.
I looked at Kantú. She nodded, and we both ran in without care. The water flooded over us, and I felt like I was back in Farellah. .
It was cool and refreshing, and though I’d felt wet with humidity all through the jungle, this wetness seemed to wash away the old wetness, taking with it all thoughts of the looming task ahead of us. I reveled in the waters’ cleansing purity.
Our break at the falls was abnormally long, but no one spoke out against it. We seemed to share an unspoken understanding that one afternoon apart from the impending mission, hidden away in the falls without worry of what enemy might attack or what obstacle we might face, was something we all deserved. Just one afternoon to clear our heads and relieve some of the weight of our ever-present duty.
~
“How bothersome,” said Nyte. “Should I try to stop him?”
I shook my head. “He won’t listen to you anyway. Besides, it’s kind of funny.”
He thought about it. “I suppose you are right. Maybe she will teach him a lesson.” He grinned slyly, like nothing would make him happier.
I sighed. “We can only hope.”
Several hours had passed since entering the falls, and Nyte and I had been observing Ardette’s failed attempts at trying to coax Rend into water games from the opposite side of the pool. Indeed, it was quite amusing to watch since she offered up various insults to Ardette along with each of her declines, all of which he combated with equally insulting remarks.
Rend’s refusals had been getting progressively more vicious, and she looked ready to strangle him at any minute.
Sensing the impending danger, Ardette swam over to us, breaking from his impossible task. He came right up next to me, and I stiffened. I’d been avoiding the pervy Daem since turning down several of his skinny-dipping invitations earlier that day. I suspected Kantú would have obliged, had she been asked. I knew it was all part of his game to make me nervous – not that there was a chance in hell I’d have accepted anyway.
I ignored the fact that he looked even more handsome than usual drenched in water, and determined to remain nonchalant as he pushed his soaked hair away from his face and locked eyes with me.
You will not make me nervous. If he hadn’t given up on the game yet, then neither would I.
“Tell me, my pit, what do you think of the lovely thing?”
“It’s quite stunning,” I said warily. “I’m glad you brought us here.”
He beamed proudly.
“Splendid! Have I earned your forgiveness, then?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” I shrugged. He pretended to look hurt. “By the way, why’s it called the Waterfall of Sorrow? There doesn’t seem to be anything sorrowful about it from what I can tell.” I surveyed the scenery. Beautiful.
“The Test of Reflection,” said Nyte, drawing his finger in a swirl around the top of the water. He looked disappointed that Ardette had backed out of the situation before things could get lethal.
Ardette turned to Nyte sharply. “An educated Elf, are we?” His voice was mocking, but I detected surprise.
Grotts, who’d been treading some ways away, also caught Nyte’s answer. He inched a bit closer to us.
“Just how do ya know ‘bout that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
Things he shouldn’t know . . . Was this another one of those? I let out an exasperated sigh. I just wanted things to be simple; I didn’t want to start wondering about Nyte’s past again.
But Nyte shook off the underlying suspicion. “Elder Pietri told me the story when I was a boy.” But his answer was a bit hasty.
Was it the truth? I couldn’t tell.
“Oh.” Grotts didn’t look convinced.
“What’s the Test of Reflection?” I prodded, once more pushing along the uncomfortable silence.
Nyte turned to me. The reflection of the water made his green eyes look unusually murky.
“It is said that a soul carrying the burden of a great sin will not be able to peer at the falls without weeping. It will reveal the true nature of one’s spirit, or so the legend goes.”
“So that’s it.” I stared at the falls.
Ardette exchanged a strange look with Grotts that I couldn’t quite read and said, “Ancient kings used them to test their knights. There was a whole ritual that went along with it and such; an awfully dry topic if you ask me.” He looked bored.
But I didn’t find it dry at all.
“Ancient kings?” I repeated. “Knights? Aren’t those kind of things just fairytales?”
He chuckled. “Yes, I suppose someone from a closed city wouldn’t know.”
Closed city?
I wanted to ask them more, but Grotts cut the conversation short.
“Er, Ardette, can I talk to ya?” He raised a bushy brow.
“Uh-oh, have I let something slip?” Ardette pretended to act apologetic, but his grin said otherwise. He thought it amusing to plant such a vague idea in my head.
Grotts didn’t notice, and the two of them went to join Scardo, who was wading properly in the shallowest part of the pool.
I watched them leave and then lowered my voice. “Nyte?”
“Yes,” he answered, “they are probably discussing me. Most certainly their distrust is only growing, but do not let it worry you.” He watched them over my shoulder, his voice low “I wish for you to enjoy your time here. Just please do not ask me about that ‘closed city’ comment for now.”
I searched his face, about to protest, but then I nodded, knowing it would be pointless to berate the issue; he wouldn’t be able to tell me anyway. What was one more mystery on top of the heaping stack I was already struggling with?
“Sorry,” he said, dropping his gaze to my face. His expression was again pained.
Splash! Splash!
Kantú splashed towards us. She’d been in the shallows trying to capture some of the pool’s small, brown fish, but she now left the spot, having grown bored with the game after coming up empty-handed every time. Her reflexes were way too slow for such sport.
“Let’s go look behind the falls!” She tugged on our arms.
Her tail was matted and wet, and her ears slumped forward, their fur heavy with water. She fiddled with them to try to get them to stand up again, but they proved stubborn and flapped forward again each time. She let out an annoyed grunt before giving up completely.
Nyte and I tried to hold in our laughter. We followed her out of the pool and around the edge of the falls. A few paces later, we stepped behind the roaring curtain of water, sheltering our faces from the pelting spray that guarded the way.
“Whoa!” Kantú let out an excited gasp.
My gasp was slightly more subdued, but there nonetheless, at the sight of the small indentation behind the falls. The misty space was filled with creeping, blush-colored flowers.
“Enticing.” I stared around the hidden recession, taking in the magical aroma of floral-infused freshwater.
Nyte walked to the far wall. “Look at this.” He crouched near a large
stone. “I think there is something here.” He brushed some of the plant away, revealing a series of strange symbols. He let out an excited, “Ah!”
“What is it?”
“This is ancient Elftongue!”
“Really?” I peered over his back. “What does it say?”
He studied it. “It is a king’s order.”
“King? So, that stuff about kings and knights was real!?”
He nodded and looked over his shoulder at Kantú who was busying herself with the blushing flowers. “I might get in trouble for telling you this . . . .” He bore into my eyes, like he was about to tell me something forbidden.
I wondered if he realized just how it made my stomach leap.
“I won’t tell, if you don’t,” I said.
He grinned. “Deal.”
He leaned in closer and continued, “A very, very long time ago, long before the Druelcan truce, there were great kingdoms that stretched across the land. The land was, er,” – he paused and looked down – “different back then.”
Different? What does that mean?
But his irises begged me not to ask, so I remained silent.
“There was a great war over what to do with the land, and the world was divided into two sides. One side relied mainly on magic. They held strongly to the belief that these falls carried magical power, able to reveal the hearts of men and their transgressions. The kings sent their knights here to undergo a great test. If they were found worthy, they were allowed to join the battle, but if they were not, they were cast into the mist.”
“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?”
“Back then, there were spies everywhere. The kings believed that if a knight failed the ritual, then they must secretly be for the opposing force. It was a rightful punishment for something like treason.”
“I guess.” Though I still didn’t think it deserved that extreme of a sentence. “Then what does the king’s order say exactly?” I bent over and ran my finger along the etched symbols. They were really well preserved.
He squinted. “Something like:
‘Those who feel worthy come forth. The Creator’s water can discern the true intent of the spirit. The faint soul shall not withstand the falls’ weeping. Deceivers be cast away.’”
I shivered, feeling jittery at the words despite the otherwise pleasant scenery. “It’s pretty foreboding.”
He sensed my unease and smirked. “Probably just superstition. You are far above such things, are you not, Miss Havoc?” Eyes twinkling, he patted my head.
His teasing worked. It pushed away the disquiet.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot you’re one of those ‘new age’ Elves that don’t believe in things like that,” I said, pushing his hand away.
So warm!
My hand lingered for too long on his. I couldn’t help myself.
What’s with me? Once again I was filled with a sudden thirst. Your warmth. I wanted to draw from his spirit again. If only there was some need to cast an ariando. I was addicted to the warmth. I needed it.
Nyte stared at me, and my veins swam.
“Ah, I guess I’ll be going now. Leave you two alone,” said Kantú, voice unusually loud. I’d completely forgotten she was there.
“Alone? N-no! I mean . . . that’s okay,” I sputtered.
But I had protested too forcefully. Nyte quickly looked away and occupied himself with the etchings.
Kantú broke out in chitters. “You guys are in serious denia-” But she stopped when a blaze of red light lit up the water. There was a loud scream.
“Rend!?”
“Cousin!” At once, and seemingly in automatic response, Nyte jumped up and dove through the falls, paying no mind to the jagged rocks at the bottom.
“Oh, no! Come on, Kantú!”
I pulled her arm and together we scurried around the water after him.
My eyes widened when they discovered the terrible event ensuing just on the other side.
Another unstable outburst?
Rend was lying on the ground, writhing and seizing. Her limbs were limp, though her veins surged red with Elven power. She twisted about, her teeth gritted tightly. She was struggling to contain herself.
She screamed again, overcome with agonizing pain.
“We have to help her!” I let out a yell.
I ran forward, but Grotts stepped in front of me, barring my way. Kantú hid behind him.
Another burst of light erupted from the struggling Elf’s stomach and headed for Scardo. He jumped out of the way just in time, but the light didn’t miss him entirely, instead grazing the tails of his tuxedo. They smoked where the spell had burned them.
Learning his lesson, the hunched man quickly took cover behind a thick trunk.
“Hold on! I am coming!” Nyte started forward to subdue the convulsing Rend, but Ardette jumped in front of him and reached her first.
Boldly, and while Nyte looked on in horror, he hopped on top of her and held her hands down.
“Get off of her!” spat Nyte, appalled. He ran forward, but Grotts grabbed his arm and flung him back into Kantú and me.
“Ardette, stop!” I called out frantically.
But Ardette ignored my warning and calmly lowered his face to Rend’s.
He’s going to kiss her!?
My jaw dropped, as did Kantú’s, but that was nothing compared to the look that spread across Nyte’s face. It was an entirely unsafe look – a look of mind-blowing shock and utter fury.
Indeed, if Ardette had kissed Rend, I’m certain Nyte wouldn’t have allowed him to make it past that moment still breathing; but thankfully, the straddling Daem did nothing of the sort and instead lingered his face just above hers.
She continued to struggle, but he held her steady.
“What is he doing?” Nyte’s voice was more than furious.
“Just watch!” growled Grotts.
“What?!”
At first I didn’t think I’d seen it right, so I did a double take, but it was the same outcome the second time around. It seemed Ardette’s skin had flickered into shadow or something.
What was that!?
I strained my eyes to discern it, but it was too late. The shadow trick was already over. But though I hadn’t quite caught it, I was certain that something had happened. It was like he’d been a wispy version of himself for just a second before returning to normal. The brief conversion left an odd shadowy haze hanging over the pair of them.
Rend convulsed. She was readying another attack.
“Bastard Daem!” shouted Nyte, but he didn’t run forward to stop the impending burst.
Ardette, move!
Things weren’t looking good. Rend was going to release a blast of searing power at any moment, and Ardette was going to be killed. And for what? It was frustratingly pointless! Why was he putting himself in danger’s way? Why was no one doing anything to stop him?!
Despite Grotts’ blocking stance, I threw myself forward and shouted, “No!”
My plea rang through the trees, but was ultimately unnecessary, for just as the next blast started to shoot out of Rend, the gray haze swooped down and sucked it up, instead consuming the blast.
Ardette shook, but remained intact.
The haze lingered around them a moment more and then forced itself into Rend’s mouth, plunging down her throat and into her lungs. Her chest rose as the smoke disappeared within her. Another moment later she exhaled, and the haze, now a smoky red, retreated from her mouth in a barreling stream. It was fueled by pressure at first, but it lost form when it entered the openness of the outside world and floated away into the jungle canopy, trailing off and then disappearing altogether into the air.
Amazed, I stared at the now clear space around falls.
Rend stopped twitching but didn’t open her eyes. Ardette rolled off of her, exhausted.
“There, ya see?” grumbled Grotts. He finally lowered his guarding stance and turned to comfort Kantú, who was cowering fearfully with he
r tail dipped in the water’s edge.
“Rend!” Nyte dashed to the silent Elf and crouched over her. He felt her face. “The power has ceased,” he said after a moment of frantic inspection, his expression grateful and surprised. “How did you do that?”
“I’m a Daem; there’s much I can do.” Ardette’s words were labored. His eyes remained closed.
“Ardette! Are you all right?” I snapped from my state of amazement and ran to him, concerned for his weakened condition.
As I neared, I heard his panting.
“Worried about me, are you? How charming.” He smiled faintly but kept his eyes closed.
I knelt at his head and inspected him. His pale skin seemed even paler than usual. Sickly. Whatever that thing had been, it’d taken a lot out of him.
“Ardette?”
“Mm?”
I had planned on helping him up, but he was in no condition to stand, so I instead lifted his head into my lap. It was a risky thing to do. I understood that, had he been in full health, he would have surely taken advantage of the situation, but now he just seemed so helpless. I wanted to comfort him however I could. Therefore, it was worth the risk.
“That was . . . kind of you,” I said quietly.
“You sound surprised,” he panted.
I am.
“Here.” Scardo scurried over and handed me a small vial. “Make him drink this.”
“What is it?”
Scardo looked to make sure Ardette’s eyes were still closed before mouthing the word, “Andap.” He put his finger to his lips, warning me not to repeat it.
Andap? I took the vial and put it to Ardette’s lips.
His eyes opened wide when the thick, black liquid hit his tongue.
“Ack!” He coughed and then glared at Scardo, who quickly scurried away to help Nyte with Rend.
“I knew you didn’t care for me, but never did I think you hated me that much,” he said, still sputtering out the liquid.
How dramatic. I rolled my eyes. “It helped, though, didn’t it? What is this stuff?” I sniffed the bottle. It smelled like festering meat.
“Have a taste.” He gave me a shrewd look.